


Dogs Days.

by Mitooshka



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dog - Freeform, Exploring, Gen, M/M, hissing wastes, in which Khalil does have a soft heart, tiny by of Cullen/Lavellan at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitooshka/pseuds/Mitooshka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He who hates animals, hates people."<br/>- Anonymous.</p><p>// In which Khalil Lavellan manages to find a mongrel and despite everyone's protests, he finds he has more in common with it than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dogs Days.

            “I feel I’ve been lied to.” Khalil pipes up from his horse in the back of the party.   
  
  
            Cassandra turns to look at him and raises a cautious brow, “oh? Why is that, Inquisitor?”  
  
  
            “Because during all our time here in the Hissing Wastes I have not witnessed any hissing nor any waste…well aside from whatever shrubbery is left lying around.” Khalil looks around him and indeed the surroundings are bleak.   
  
  
            They had spent the past few days in the desert, usually too hot to go wandering around during the day so they stick to the near evening and the night when the air gets cooler. It is during this time that the desert looks hostile and yet beautiful, all blue and covered in silver light from a moon as large as a bell tower. It is wonderful and terrifying, Cassandra thinks.   
  
  
            And yet the Inquisitor is correct and Cassandra can’t help a half smile at him. Khalil sits astride his Amaranthine Charger, a gift from some noble man for an invitation to join the Inquisition. Khalil favoured the horse among all the others for he was as black as the night sky and twice as fast, able to scorch the lands he ran across. Khalil felt free in those moments, the wind blowing through his hair and his thoughts a mere dust in the wind.  
  
  
            He sits quietly as they ride onwards back to camp and in his hands he holds a skull that had been found in the Dwarven ruins they had come from. He tosses it carelessly into the air in his gloved fingers and Iron Bull watches him with a soft smile.  
  
  
            “Boss, what are you going to do with that? Stick it in Cullen’s dresser to give him a scare?” The Qunari rumbles a laugh from his chest.  
  
  
            “Well actually I was thinking of putting it in Dorian’s tent, fitting for a necromancer with fancy fingers.” Khalil shoots the mage a look and Dorian furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose.  
  
  
            “Watch’er, I may yet singe off the rest of your hair.” Dorian warns and kicks his heels into his courser and rides up front with Cassandra. The two drift into an easy conversation and Khalil is left chuckling to himself as Bull still smiles on.  
  
  
            “Seriously, why pick up a skull?” Bull presses on.  
  
  
            Khalil shrugs and looks the boned specimen over in his hands, “I was thinking of carving into it, the bone is pretty dry and brittle but I’m sure Dagna or even Solas could help me make the bone wetter, more pliable for carving. I might see if I can dig up some of those aquamarine gems we found.” The small elf muses to himself, his dark eyes focusing on the skull and imagining the intricate lines weaving themselves on the smooth surface.   
  
  
            “Sounds good-“  
  
  
            “Venatori!” Dorian calls out from ahead of them and it brings both Khalil and Bull out of their thoughts, looking forward towards an outcrop of trees. Amongst them a few men wandered, their dark armor reflecting light in the near night time.   
  
  
            They dismount from their horses and Cassandra and Bull start walking heavily towards the group. Khalil unsheathes his blades as Dorian takes his place near the edge and gets into a battle stance. Khalil throws smoke down upon himself the shimmering dust begins to take effect, hiding him from view of anyone and he becomes a ghost in the desert. A poltergeist of death and destruction and things flow away from his mind and his only instinct, to kill or be killed, becomes evident.   
  
  
            He stalks like a hunter, like a large cat ready to take down its prey and his boots barely sink into the sand as the he flits from one tree to another. Suddenly a shout and Khalil loses his focus, his hand whipping to see Cassandra shouting at something and the elf narrows his eyes and follows her gaze.  
  
  
            There is a small shape barrelling towards the group of Venatori, a blur of dark brown and black and it isn’t until it runs past Khalil and that he understands what it is.  
  
            A dog.   
  
  
            A small one, a mongrel but it’s growling and bristling and it launches itself at one of the guards, fastening onto the warrior’s chain-mailed legs. Surrounding men come close to it with their knives drawn and Khalil, with the same blinding speed as the dog, launches himself at the nearest Venatori member. His blades glitter for one second in the moonlight and then a spray of blood splatters the sand as the man clutches his throat, a gurgling sound filling the air.   
  
  
            Bull and Cassandra join the throng as well, large axe and great sword whirling through the air and collecting bone and brain matter. Khalil is only aware of the driving force of battle and he wields his knives like an extension of his limbs; careful thought through and precise.   
  
  
            The dog is still there and it’s biting and snarling at the remaining men before they fall to one weapon, spell or another. It barks at the corpses, the hair not standing up anymore but the urgency in the dog’s tone is hilarious to Khalil as he sheathes his weapons. Bull wipes sweat and blood from his forehead and all four of them meet together in the center of the outcrop, bodies lying around them like offerings to a higher god.   
  
  
            Khalil kneels and clasps his hands together, breathing a thankful prayer to Mythal and Falon’Din before standing up.

  
            “So…did anyone see a mongrel get into the midst of battle?” Dorian asks, catching his breath.   
  
  
            “I thought…I thought I was the only one that saw it but it flew by me- there it is!” Cassandra points towards one of the trees where the dog sits. It really is rather small and Khalil can’t bet it’s taller than his knee.   
  
  
            “Feisty thing.” Bull says, “do you think it’s rabid?”  
  
  
            “It didn’t seem to have any interest in us…do you think it recognizes the Venatori?” the mage asks again.  
  
  
            “Dog, being that smart? I doubt it!” Bull laughs and shakes his great head before starting to walk back towards the horses. Dorian and Cassandra exchange looks and follow him seconds later until Khalil is the only one left standing there. He gazes at the dog and the creature meets his eyes, it’s stumpy tail wiggling a little and it stands up as if to come towards him. Khalil turns away and starts to follow the rest of his group. He is aware of the dog following him however, he is aware of the soft pads of its paws pressing into the sand and in the night Khalil’s eyes shine a luminescent color like that of a cat’s and he can practically see every hair on the little beast’s body.   
  
  
            Khalil tries not to feel bad for it and so he gets onto his mount and begins the trek back to camp.   
  


* * *

  
            They had pitched tents on a rocky cliff overlooking the canyon. The wind had died down a little and the air grew slightly cooler as they made their way into the area. They dismounted and the officers took their horses to be watered and fed. Bull threw down his axe and immediately began to rummage for food while Dorian proceeded to unbuckle to top layer of his battle mage armor.   
  
  
            Khalil kept his armor on but sat by the fire, his legs outstretched in front of him and he leaned back on the palms of his hands. He likes the night time, he likes how everything looks more gray and blue and pristine than in the harsh brightness of the day. He especially likes how everything is silent.   
  
  
            “Archers!” A shout from the Requisition officer makes his hair stand on end and he gets up in a flash. His hands coming to unsheathe his blades.  
  
  
            “What is going on?” Cassandra demands.  
  
  
            “Someone saw something moving on the dunes.” The officer nods and two of the archers keep their arrows trained on a black speck in the pale landscape.   
  
  
            “Wait, what is it?” Khalil holds up a hand, curious as to what was so brave to come this close to an inhabited camp.  
  
  
            And lo and behold, the speck becomes bigger until it is running full tilt towards the camp. It slows to a trot and then finally halts right by Dorian and Khalil’s tent.  
  
  
            “Is that the same dog that we met at the outcrop?” Dorian asks, he holds onto his staff but lowers it slightly. Beside him, Bull bursts into laughter. “Well I got to hand it to the little bugger, he has more sense of direction than most of us.”  
  
  
            “Seeker Pentaghast shall we kill the creature?” The Requisition officer asks and Cassandra opens her mouth but before she can say anything, Khalil pushes past them and kneels down a few feet from the dog.   
  
  
            “Inquisitor, it could be dangerous-“  
  
  
            “Honestly Cassandra, if Venatori couldn’t stop us, what is the likelihood of a dog doing it?” Khalil looks at her from over his shoulder and raises a brow. Cassandra stammers a little but remains silent. The elf takes off his glove and puts his hand down, palm up. From his position he can see that the dog is indeed small, not very well-fed and it has scars and scratches on its snout…and yet its stubby tail wags as if it has just witnessed the birth of a god.   
  
  
            “Come here.” Khalil murmurs and the dog creeps closer until it can sniff his hand and when it does, it licks it. The Inquisitor can’t help but smile, his face creasing into unfamiliar lines and he says, “I think it’s friendly and don’t think it’s rabid. Give me some food and water.”  
  
  
            “Inquisitor, is this-“  
  
  
            “Did I stutter, officer?” Khalil’s voice grows sharp, crackly in the air and the officer nods and goes to retrieve some food and drink for the mongrel. The elf meanwhile gathers it in his arms and finds that it is indeed a ‘he’ and looks at the dumb thing’s face. His eyes are dark and liquidy and there is some horrendous buildup and a ragged leather collar around his skinny neck.  
  
  
            Khalil wraps him in one of his blankets and brings him over to the fire, settling down in front of it. The officer returns with a bowl of water and some dried meat, Khalil thanks her and breaks off tiny pieces of the meat and feeds it carefully to the dog. The dog whimpers quietly, swallowing and licking Khalil’s fingers with enthusiasm.   
  
  
            “Seems like the boss has a new plaything.” Bull crosses his arms and sits down opposite of Khalil. The elf looks at him and Bull is quite surprised at the softness that is portrayed in his eyes.   
  
  
            “Fey needs me.”   
  
  
            “You’ve named it?” Cassandra tries to keep the disgust out of her voice but it becomes clear.   
  
  
            “I’ve named him and yes, I figure I can’t leave him out here. He’s ugly, small and flimsy…he’s like me, can’t leave him out here.” Khalil shrugs and hugs the dog closer to him, “besides, he can hunt the mice and rats in the cook’s larder.”  
  
  
            Cassandra throws her hands up and sighs, Bull laughs and Dorian shakes his head but his mustache twitches with amusement.   
  
  


* * *

             When they return to Skyhold a week later the dog is looking quite fatter than he had been, Cassandra blames Khalil for wasting all their food but the elf ignores her as he presents the pup to Cullen.   
  
  
            The commander looks at the dog like he had just seen the world’s oddest looking creature and he questions the Inquisitor why he had saved him.  
  
  
            “Because all things deserve a second chance, no matter how ugly, or broken or hungry for something or other. I got my chance, this dog deserves his.”  
  
  
             Later, in the safety of his office, Cullen tries to argue with the small elf but is silenced by his lips, hands in his hair and a knee between his legs. He finds himself feeling his resolve slip away and his eyes catch sight of the dog sitting by the door with his tongue lolling out and figures, _‘every dog has his day’._

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was playing Inquisition and was in the Hissing Wastes and I started fighting some spiders and out of nowhere this dog suddenly starts fighting with me. It was so odd but I could not figure out where the dog came from or who he belonged to but I was inspired.
> 
> Also the Hissing Wastes are a bitch.


End file.
